La Cantina
by sharon raydor
Summary: At his favourite place Julio Sanchez meets someone he hadn't expected there.


Lourdes greeted him with a kiss on his cheek. Juan came over, clapped his shoulder and cracked a joke about the fact he never brought a woman with him. The music, salsa, played in the background while the other patrons engaged in lively conversations or were part of the thick crowd on the dance floor. The scent of spilled beer, of tapas and smoke was the same it always was. Smoking was prohibited but as this bar was largely frequented by cops, most of them with Mexican roots, they all turned a blind eye. ‚La Cantina' was like a second home for many of them. It was for him.

He made his way to the bar, greeted people he knew on the way. Here, he could unwind from the long and gruelling days. He had chosen death as his business, didn't want another job but he needed the distance, needed some light to counter the darkness of the human soul he had to look at again and again in the line of duty.

Ana handed him a beer without a comment, They shared a smile. Ana's family had hoped the two of them would become an item, had hinted, tried to set them up. In consequence they had dated twice, found they made good friends but didn't have any chemistry to speak of to become more. After the death of his wife he hadn't felt that spark again that told him it was right to be with that particular woman at that particular time. More than one friend had told him he was crazy, loco.

Why didn't he find a good, decent woman, settle for warmth, some romance, friendship? In his opinion they never had felt the spark if they could suggest something like that.

"You know that white lady is ogling you, don't you?" Ana asked, offering him some tapas.

He didn't. He was a good cop with usually sharp instincts but here, he was only Julio, the man. He came here to relax, didn't feel the need to be alert.

"What kind of lady?" he asked, not bothering to turn around.

"One I wouldn't expect in here."

"How so?"

"Too classy, somehow."

Ana shrugged. "Look yourself."

He wasn't interested in any woman ogling him, but did it to please Ana.

What the hell? He knew he was staring. Ana was right. This wasn't someone you'd expect in a place like this. Not Sharon Raydor.

Some days she needed to get away from it all. Today was such a day. It had been a long week with too much coffee, too much overtime and too little sleep. There had been several options, among them curling up with a book, going to the gym or go out. Maria, her best friend for the last ten plus years had insisted on the latter, told her to dress casual and be ready at eight.

Now, dressed in a pair of jeans and a black top, she wondered why her friend had chosen this of all places. She didn't mind noisy, didn't mind the crowds of people, but she wasn't exactly comfortable with the fact she had ended up at a place one of her subordinates seemed to favour.

Maria turned around from perusing the crowd.

"What's up? Who are you staring at?"

She was about to answer the question when the man in question turned around, his eyes widening as recognition set in. Talking about being busted. She didn't even know why she felt like an intruder. All she knew was that she would rather be some place else at the moment.

"Sharon?"

"Nothing. It's nothing."

She turned to Maria, smiled. If she ignored Sanchez, maybe he'd ignore her.

"You don't look like nothing. And by the way, we're about to get company."

"Captain."

So much for ignorance.

Maria looked amused. Sharon turned around, made quick introductions. She knew she hadn't done anything wrong by coming here but it didn't felt right. There were reasons to draw a line between one's professional and private life. The one time she hadn't, she had married the man in question, only to separate a few years later when she couldn't ignore his problems and his reluctance to change any longer.

Maria exchanged a few words with Sanchez, making Sharon curse the fact she had never bothered to learn the language spoken by millions in the country she lived in.

"I'll be back soon," Maria said, touching her arm before she left for the restroom. So much for that.

"Listen, Detective Sanchez. I'm sorry..."

"It's after hours, isn't it?"

As much as a shock it had been to find Raydor here, he hadn't thought twice before making his way over to the woman who was his boss for a few weeks now. In contrast to some of his other colleagues, he never had had a problem with her, had known she was doing her job and doing it right.

Looking at her now, in casual dress instead of a power suit, her hands in the pockets of her jeans, she nearly looked vulnerable. One strand of hair had fallen into her face, and he was hard pressed not to tuck it behind her ear. This close and without any work to be done, he studied her as he was studied in return. He had never noticed how big her eyes really were, how bright, how much feeling they held. Provenza was wrong when he called her an ice cold pain in the butt. She wasn't cold. She was smouldering fire, carefully hidden behind a wall of professionalism.

"It is," she answered his question. He noticed with a start they had stared at each other for a long moment. Even the music in the background had seemed to recede, feeling that much louder all of sudden.

"Then it's Julio. Here, I'm Julio."

She looked at him for several excruciating seconds, finally nodded once.

"Okay, Julio."

He liked the little lilt in her voice when she spoke his name.

"Call me Sharon then."

There was no question they'd be captain Raydor and detective Sanchez again tomorrow. Right now, right here, they were Sharon and Julio though.

Sharon broke eye contact, looked over his shoulder and he saw her shoulders slump a little. When he turned himself, he saw her friend had reappeared but was dancing with a man he knew quite well. Pedro was a decent guy. His thoughts went back to Sharon. Did she really think she needed to be saved from him? The thought almost made him smile, and he felt how he regained his footing again.

"Do you like to dance?"

"I...well, yes, but..."

"No, but."

He took her hand, led her away, wondering if he was a smart or an incredible stupid man. For a second, he felt her resistance, than she followed him. While the song they were playing wasn't slow, it wasn't exactly fast either and the throng of people had him keep less of a distance to her than he normally would. Still, they fell into an easy rhythm. It felt good. Good. Minutes passed, the song morphed into another.

He realised they hadn't spoken a work since he had dragged her here. Suddenly, he wished he could see her eyes.

"Sharon?"

She looked at him and the myriad of emotions in her gaze shook him. She was fire and ice, strength and fear. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but she closed it again.

He wanted to say something, couldn't, their gaze holding.

He felt it. By god, he felt it. The spark. He knew, he was in deep shit.

Rules were rules for a reason. One of them was not t ever fraternise with a subordinate. Dancing. There was no harm in dancing, was there?

There was harm in thinking it felt good though, harm in feeling safe in your partner's arm, to enjoy his warmth, his scent. Maria had said she should date more often. It seemed she was right. She should date. Everyone not the man she was with at the moment.

Why was her heart beating so fast all of sudden? Why couldn't she bear to look into his eyes only to feel unable to look away once she did? Why was he looking at her as if she was special? She wasn't. She...

An upbeat song replaced the song that had played only seconds before and it broke the mood. It was as if the world crashed down on them from one moment to the next. This wasn't right, even though it felt like it was. Rules were rules for a reason and she better remembered it.

"I've got to go back to my friend. Thanks for the dance,...Julio."

He looked as if he wanted to stop her, but he didn't. She turned, all but ran to Maria, shouting into her ear something had come up and she had to leave. It was cowardly, she knew, but her feelings scared her. She shouldn't have any feelings. At the door, she turned back once, saw Julio standing where she had left him.

She passed through the door, hailed down a cab.

Tomorrow she would face him again, but tomorrow he would be detective Sanchez again.


End file.
